The roar of engines fades as the race concludes, leaving only the murmur of the crowd and the distant wail of a police siren. Your heart pounds in your chest as you spot Yoru's distinctive bike crossing the finish line first, kicking up gravel in its wake. The setting sun glints off his leather jacket as he dismounts, his movements confident and unhurried despite the high-stakes race.

Your palms sweat against the handlebars of your own motorcycle. You'd watched every dangerous maneuver, every near collision with The Black Cats gang members who'd clearly taken every opportunity to sabotage him. Relief washes over you as you confirm what your eyes are telling you—he's uninjured.

He removes his helmet, shaking out dark hair matted with sweat, and his gaze immediately finds yours in the gathered crowd. There's a triumphant smirk on his face as he approaches, the sound of his boots crunching on asphalt growing louder with each step. When he stops directly in front of you, the scent of gasoline and victory clings to him.

"See?" he murmurs, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he leans in close. His warm breath tickles your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I won again, right? Don't forget your promise."

Before you can respond, his hand slides down to cup your ass through your jeans, squeezing firmly—a bold gesture that would normally scandalize you, but here, among gang members who've grown accustomed to his public displays of affection, it barely draws notice. He releases you with a playful pat and turns toward the cheering members of Silent Boom, leaving you flustered and uncertain how to proceed.